


Damned Angelic

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is smitten, Crowley is whiney, Fluff, M/M, vague smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 10:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: Just some sweet talking Aziraphale and grumbly yet loving Crowley





	Damned Angelic

Crowley’s back arched in a manner just a touch inhuman, those golden eyes lidded and pupils dilated to a size not unlike an excited cat. He sprawled under Aziraphale, all long limbs and demonic grace, so warm and lovely just this side of wanton, and Aziraphale loved him  _so_ much. The noises Crowley was making filled his ears, going straight to his cock, and he felt so good around him that Aziraphale was momentarily struck dumb with the force of just how much he adored this man. Without realizing, he’d stopped his rhythmic movements to stare enraptured down at Crowley, watching how he writhed and hissed, slapping Aziraphale’s shoulder and complaining vocally when Aziraphale stopped. 

“I love you.” Aziraphale breathed, his eyes wide with wonder and reverence as he stared down at the man he’d pined after for near six thousand years, “Oh Crowley, I love you so much.”

“Ng-“ Crowley gasped, arching and grasping at any part of Aziraphale he could reach, “Angel, you bloody sap, you did  _not_ just halt such delicious movements just to say that.” Aziraphale smiled softly and leaned in to nuzzle him, stroking his sides and kissing up his jaw, taking in the marvelous scent of smoke and honey and  _Crowley_.

“Oh but you’re so gorgeous, my dear”. he sighed, “I simply can’t help myself, understand. You’re a masterpiece, my darling, I simply must admire you.” Crowley made a sound of annoyance, or perhaps desperation, rocking his hips to try and coax Aziraphale to move again, peppering his face with kisses and whining needily. Aziraphale smiled, utterly besotted, and pressed the softest of kisses to Crowley’s lips, ignoring the demon’s grumbling and huffing.

“Ugh, even buried inside me you’re still so damned  _angelic_.” he groaned, causing Aziraphale to flush deeply and make a halfhearted thrust, earning him a truly delightful sound from Crowley’s bitten lips.

“So crude.” he tutted, his hands caressing up and down Crowley’s sides, “Honestly, not a hint of propriety in your body.”

“Demon.” he smirked, a glimpse of that forked tongue making Aziraphale shiver, “Are you surprised?” 

“I wouldn’t have you any other way, my love.” he smiled. Crowley preened at that, stretching and parting his legs just a touch further, tempting Aziraphale in the way only Crowley ever could. Aziraphale swallowed, mouth dry, and made a very concentrated effort not to stare at where they were joined. Crowley noticed.

“Can I make a request?” he purred, and  _oh_  Aziraphale was so weak against him.

“I would do anything for you.” he breathed, kissing the spot under his ear and pressing his demon even closer to him. Crowley shivered against him, warm and angular and so perfect Aziraphale could weep.

“Angel.” he locked his ankles around Aziraphale’s waist, giving him a truly wicked look, golden eyes searing into his very soul, “Sweetie, honey, baby, sugar. Save the gooey love fest for another time, and  _fuck me into this mattress_.”

And well, Aziraphale had always been weak against those eyes. What else could he do but obey?


End file.
